Chương 11
“Do you think she’ll cooperate?”
“I think she’ll protect herself.”
“So yes.”
“Sometimes self-protection produces useful information.”
Sam emerged from the garage with Bell.
“Rifle is secured.”
Bell checked something on the tablet.
Sam looked between us.
“Do I get to know why I’m helping with a government gun transfer at nine o’clock on a Wednesday?”
I glanced at Park.
She said, “That part is Mr. Stanley’s choice.”
Sam looked at me.
“My granddaughter is coming here.”
He blinked.
“Your what?”
“I found out today.”
“That sentence has too many problems in it.”
“I know.”
“Dennis has a daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Where has she been?”
I could not answer without hearing the attic in the words.
Sam saw my face.
His own changed.
“Oh.”
He looked toward the spare bedroom.
“Does she need anything?”
The question was so ordinary that I almost broke.
“Probably everything.”
Sam nodded.
“My daughter kept some of the grandkids’ stuff.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I didn’t ask.”
He pointed at me.
“Size?”
“Five.”
“That is an age, Elmer.”
“I don’t know children’s sizes.”
Bell said, “Probably around five or six, but don’t buy too much tonight.”
Sam pulled out his phone.
“My daughter will know.”
He stepped onto the porch before I could stop him.
Park watched him leave.
“That’s what help looks like when it isn’t solving everything.”
I glanced at her.
“Was that another social-work lesson?”
“No.”
“It sounded rehearsed.”
“I have parents.”
Bell handed me a packet.
“Read this.”
I read every page because not reading had become one of the things I no longer trusted myself to do.
The placement terms were plain.
No unauthorized contact with Dennis or Trisha.
No corporal punishment.
Medical follow-up as directed.
Notification of any attempt to remove Sophie.
Cooperation with child welfare and law enforcement.
Temporary authority for routine care.
Nothing about being her grandfather.
Nothing about what to say when she woke in a strange house asking for her mother.
I signed anyway.
By the time we returned to the hospital, Sophie was dressed in the same faded pink shirt because there were no other clothes available.
A nurse had washed it in a sink and dried it somewhere.
The fabric was still slightly warm.
She had hospital socks under borrowed sneakers that were too large.
Rosa stood beside her holding a plastic discharge bag.
Sophie saw me and looked at the clock.
“You came back.”
“I said I would.”
“You took a long time.”
“I did.”
She seemed to decide whether this counted as betrayal.
Then she held out Bunny.
“His ear came loose.”
The black stitches had opened at one end.
“I have sewing needles.”
“Do you know how?”
“No.”
Sophie frowned.
“Then why did you say it?”
Rosa laughed.
I looked at the rabbit.
“I know a woman who does.”
Rosa stopped laughing.
“I clean houses.”
“You found a child in an attic.”
“This does not make me a tailor.”
Sophie looked between us.
Rosa sighed.
“Fine.”
It was the first time Sophie laughed.
Only two little bursts.
Then she covered her mouth as though laughter might be against a rule.
Nobody commented on it.
The drive home took twenty-two minutes.
Sophie sat in the back with Rosa because Bell had insisted on an appropriate child seat.
Sam’s daughter had delivered one before we reached the hospital.
Along with it came two shopping bags containing pajamas, underwear, a toothbrush, hair ties, a purple sweatshirt, a coloring book, and three stuffed animals.
I had not asked for any of them.
The generosity made me uncomfortable.
Generosity usually did.
At a red light, I looked in the rearview mirror.
Sophie was staring out the window.
“Do you know this street?” she asked.
“No.”
“You’re driving on it.”
“I meant I don’t know every building.”
“That’s weird.”
“Very.”
Rosa hid a smile.
When we reached my house, Sophie would not get out immediately.
She stared at the front door.
“It locks?”
“Yes.”
“From inside?”
“Yes.”
“Can I unlock it?”
“Yes.”
“What if Daddy comes?”
The question silenced the car.
I turned around.
“He cannot come inside.”
“How?”
“Because I changed the locks.”
That was not exactly true yet.
Sam had replaced the front cylinder while we were gone, but the back door still needed work.
I decided precision mattered.
“The front door has a new lock, and Sam is finishing the back one.”
“Who’s Sam?”
“My neighbor.”
“Does he yell?”
“Mostly about gutters.”
She looked at Rosa.
“Is that bad?”
“Very serious,” Rosa said.
Sophie considered this.
Then she unbuckled with Rosa’s help.
Inside, Winston appeared at the end of the hallway.
Sophie froze.
The cat froze.
They stared at each other.
“That is Winston,” I said.
“He is substantial.”
Rosa made a choking sound behind me.
Sophie crouched.
Winston approached slowly, sniffed her fingers, and rubbed his cheek against her hand.
She looked up.
“He likes me.”
“He likes anyone shorter than him.”
Winston ignored me and followed her into the living room.
For ten minutes, nothing terrible happened.
Sophie inspected the couch cushions.
She opened and closed the bathroom door three times.
She checked the refrigerator.
She asked why I had mustard but no ketchup.
I had no acceptable answer.
Then she asked where her room was.
I showed her.
She stood in the doorway.
The lamp was on.
A clean quilt covered the bed.
Sam’s daughter had left pajamas folded beside a small stack of clothes.
Sophie walked to the window and tested the latch.
Then the closet.
Then the bedroom door.
She closed it.
Opened it.
Closed it again.
Opened it.
I stayed in the hall.
“Does it lock?” she asked.
“No.”
Her face tightened.
“But nobody can lock you in.”
She thought about that.
“Can I put a chair there?”
“Where?”
“Under the knob.”
Rosa looked at me.
I wanted to say she did not need to.
That she was safe.
May you like
That adults had made everything right.
Instead I said, “If that helps tonight, we can put a chair there.”
